Three Little Words She Didn't Say
by Ryeloza
Summary: Five times Lynette didn't tell Tom she loved him and one time she did.


**Disclaimer: **_Desperate Housewives_ is not mine in any way, shape or form.

**Story Summary: **Five times Lynette didn't tell Tom she loved him and one time she did. Some pre-series fluff, because lately, they've just been bickering too much on the show.

**Three Little Words (She Didn't Say)**

A story by **Ryeloza**

**Part I**

Lynette gathered her hair in her hands, smoothing it away from her face and expertly tying it back with a hair band. Like most Monday nights, the Laundromat was deserted, and she'd brought a stack of work with her to help pass the time. Usually she liked laundry night; it was relaxing and it gave her time to clear her head. Tonight, though, she felt discontent. Outside, rain poured down in droves, and despite the warm July night, she really just wanted to be at home, curled up with a good book and a cup of tea. If she hadn't been down to her last pair of panties, that's exactly what she'd be doing.

The bell above the door rang, and with a passing interest, Lynette glanced up. To her surprise, Tom stood in the doorway with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He grinned at her, shaking some of the water from his hair, and said, "I'm pretty sure only a lunatic would come out to do her laundry in this weather."

Lynette fought a smile. She couldn't believe he was actually there; she didn't even remember mentioning her plans for the night to him, let alone which Laundromat she frequented. "Are you calling me crazy?"

Tom scanned the room with an exaggerated look and shrugged. "You are the only one here."

"Not anymore."

"Yeah. Well, Monday night's a good night for doing laundry."

"I always thought so." Lynette tossed one last t-shirt into the machine and shut the door. Just as she reached up to drop in her quarters, though, she paused, overtaken by a singular, impulsive thought. Without thinking it through, she asked, "You want to throw your stuff in with mine? Save some money?"

Tom didn't immediately respond, and Lynette shut her eyes for brief second, chastising herself. They'd only been on three dates; they'd just had sex for the first time two nights ago. Somehow doing their laundry together suggested a level of intimacy she didn't think either of them was ready for. She found herself unable to back down from the suggestion, though, and slowly turned to face Tom.

"This is kind of lame," said Tom, sheepishly opening his bag. Lynette swallowed hard, but before she respond—defensively or otherwise—he overturned his bag and dumped his laundry onto the floor. Only two t-shirts, a pair of boxers, an undershirt and some socks fell out, and Lynette's eyes widened in surprise. Tom gave her a slightly embarrassed smile. "How dorky is it if I admit that I just wanted to see you?"

"What?"

"I saw your car as I drove by, so I just grabbed my overnight bag and came in. But I'm kind of seeing the flaw in the plan now. I don't even have any detergent."

Lynette pressed her lips together, but she couldn't hide her delighted smile. It was dorky and kind of lame, but for some reason she could only focus on the warm, sweet idea that he'd wanted to see her just three hours after they'd left work. It was ridiculous. And she kind of loved him for it.

"Well," she said slowly, "you have to wash them now that they've been on the floor."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely."

Tom picked up the clothes, walked over and casually tossed them in with her clothes. She slung an arm around his waist, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Hi," she said.

"Hi."

"I'm really glad you're such a big dork."

"Really?"

Lynette smiled. "Yeah. Really."

**Part II**

There was a knock at her door.

Lynette knew that it was Tom. He'd called an hour ago to say that he was going to stop by on his way home despite her many insistences that he shouldn't bother. She was sick, hit hard by some rare summer flu, and she'd spent most of the day lying half-alive on her couch. Her motivation to get up to answer the door was nil, no matter who was there.

He knocked again.

Groaning, Lynette slithered off of the couch. Her stomach lurched lecherously, but now that she was standing, the only course of action seemed to be answering the door. She staggered the four feet to the door, opened it and then promptly threw up.

"Oh! Jeez!" Tom jumped back, barely able to keep his feet dry, and Lynette instinctively started to cry. It was stupid and embarrassing and they'd only been dating three weeks and she hated being sick—

"Hey, hey," said Tom, his arm encircling her shoulders as he backed her into the apartment. "It's okay. It's no big deal." One of his hands settled on her forehead, and he looked down at her in concern. "You're burning up."

"I don't feel well," she sobbed stupidly. Her head felt heavy, like it was filled with gauze, and she couldn't quite think straight. Mostly, though, she just felt overwhelmingly grateful that he was going to take care of her.

"I know," said Tom. He kissed her forehead gently. "Come on. Let's clean you up and get you into bed."

Slowly, he led her into the bathroom, and she brushed her teeth while he started the shower, and then he carefully helped her undress and step under the spray. The water felt wonderful, soothing her aching muscles and clearing her head just the tiniest bit, and by the time Tom turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around her, she could almost think coherently again. Without protest, she let him carry her into her bedroom, and he helped her into her pajamas before she snuggled down into her bed.

"I'm going to stay here tonight, okay?"

Lynette shook her head, though her eyes were already closing. "You'll get sick."

"No way. My immune system is freakishly strong." He kissed her gently, and then brushed her hair off of her face. "Besides," he said quietly, "someone's gotta look out for you."

Lynette didn't respond. There was only one thing she could think to say, but even now she wasn't brave enough to say it.

**Part III**

Tom lazily stroked her cheek, the pads of his fingers feather-light against her skin, and Lynette found herself completely incapable of keeping a smile off of her face. It definitely spoiled the illusion that she was still asleep, but Tom didn't point this out, and she was perfectly happy to keep her eyes shut and just enjoy the sensation of his touch. In the month they'd been together, they'd had almost no time for languid days like this; she was going to take advantage of every second.

Slowly, Tom's hand drifted into her hair; his thumb gently coursed the rim of her ear and then she felt him shift forward, and he lightly kissed her nose. "You're so pretty," he said so quietly that she wondered if he actually thought she was still asleep. His lips brushed her forehead, her cheek, her chin, and then he repeated the words, sighing them into her skin. "You're so pretty."

Lynette opened her eyes. Tom was smiling at her with the most incredibly tender expression that the entire world seemed to fall away. Nothing else existed but the two of them nestled together in this bed. "Good morning," he murmured.

"Hi."

Tom's hand drifted down her body, underneath the sheets to settle on her hip. There was a seriousness in his eyes that she knew was echoed in her own. Like this was somehow the most important moment of their lives. Tom sighed contentedly. "How'd I get so lucky to end up with you?"

"I was thinking the same thing," she whispered. She shut her eyes again, falling away from the world as Tom kissed her again, longer and more passionately. Slowly, she rolled onto her back, wrapping her arms around him and encouraging him to go further. All the while, the words burned on the tip of her tongue.

_I love you. I love you so much._

**Part IV**

"Oh, we're gonna do karaoke."

Lynette raised an eyebrow and shook her head at her boyfriend. Across the table, Charlie snorted into his drink and Veronica lightly slapped his arm. Ignoring their friends, Lynette reached out to squeeze Tom's hand. "I don't think so, sweetie."

"Oh, yeah. Come on. It'll be awesome!"

Charlie grinned at her wickedly. "Yeah, it would be awesome."

"See!" said Tom. He leaned into her personal space, resting his forehead against her head for a second. "Come on, baby. We can sing something sexy."

Despite herself, Lynette laughed. She'd only seen Tom smashed once before, but he had not been nearly as silly as this. Gently, she pulled back, placing her hands on his cheeks and kissing him. "You're drunk."

"Mmm. Yes."

"You know, Tom," said Veronica, leaning across the table. "If you really want to impress Lynette, you'll get up and sing to her."

"No, no, no," said Lynette, well aware that the bright look in Tom's eyes meant he was already considering it. "Tom…"

He ignored her, sliding out of the booth and stumbling toward the stage to sign up. Lynette rolled her eyes. "Thanks," she said to Veronica.

"Oh, come on. He's cute."

Lynette didn't respond, instead keeping an eye on Tom as he headed from the stage to the bar to get another shot of liquid courage. She supposed on some planet this could be construed as cute. Potentially embarrassing might be another interpretation. And possibly dangerous, given the way Tom was swaying back and forth. She stood, ready to stop him from falling off the stage if nothing else, when suddenly the emcee announced Tom's name and he staggered up there. Behind her, Veronica started to hoot obnoxiously.

"This is for my girlfriend," said Tom. "She really didn't want to come up here with me, but I'm crazy about her anyway."

Lynette smiled, shaking her head, and watched as Tom got ready to humiliate himself in her name. As the opening chords of Journey's "Faithfully" blasted from the speakers, Tom began to sing. He actually wasn't half-bad.

"Oh my God!" crooned Veronica. "This song is so romantic!"

Charlie groaned. "Okay. I think you're cut off."

"No!" Veronica tugged on the hem of her shirt, but Lynette didn't take her eyes off of Tom. Veronica wasn't discouraged. "You know what this means, right? He loves you!"

"Veronica!" barked Charlie. "For once in your life shut up!"

To Lynette's surprise, a flush actually rose in her cheeks, and she ducked her head, ambivalently torn between mortification and awe. She'd never once agreed with Veronica since she'd met her, but she suddenly found herself hopefully wondering if the idiot was right for once. What if Tom really did love her? Because she was suddenly pretty damn sure that she was in love with him. Without thinking, Lynette headed for the stage, running up just as Tom finished the second verse: "I'm forever yours, faithfully." Forgetting the crowd and the alcohol running through Tom's veins and Veronica's drunken rambling, Lynette threw her arms around Tom and kissed him right in the middle of the song. When she pulled back, Tom was grinning at her like a fool.

"So you liked the song?" His voice, amplified by the microphone, only made her smile.

"Yeah," she said quietly, running her hand along his temple and kissing him again. "I loved the song."

**Part V**

_God, I am completely in love with him_.

Lynette sat at a picnic table, trying and failing to be subtle as she stared across the lawn at Tom. They were at her friend Jan's house for some backyard barbeque, and despite the humidity and overcast sky, Lynette could only focus on Tom. He was standing at the grill, having what she would wager money was a completely inane conversation with Jan's husband (a man Tom couldn't stand), and he hadn't complained once. There wasn't a doubt in her mind; she had fallen head-over-heels.

Tom glanced over at her, catching her eye and giving her a slight eye roll. She just smiled and blew him a kiss, unsurprised when he excused himself from the conversation and crossed the yard to join her. "Hey," he said, sitting down behind her and gently rubbing her shoulders. "You having fun?"

"I am." She turned and he leaned in to give her an awkward kiss.

"Good," he said. And then, with a slightly laughing, questioning look, he added, "What?"

"Huh?"

"You're staring at me like—I don't know."

_I love you_.

She smiled. "I'm just really happy."

It was almost the whole truth.

**Part VI**

Tom was antsy, and Lynette couldn't figure out why. She'd only been gone for a week, away on a vacation with a couple of her friends that she'd planned before she'd even met Tom, but he seemed unusually perturbed. It was strange given that the night before they'd celebrated her return quite enthusiastically. Tom had obviously been very glad to see her, so she wasn't sure what had him keyed up now.

"What's going on?" she asked, stepping onto the elevator. She adjusted her bag higher onto her shoulder and gave Tom an expectant look. "Are you okay?"

Tom sighed. "Look, there's something—I have to tell you something."

"What?"

"While you were gone…" He shifted his weight nervously, and Lynette felt her stomach sink. What could he have possibly done to feel so guilty about?

"Spit it out," she snapped anxiously.

"I may have killed your plant," he blurted out. The words came in a rush. "The African violet. I just thought I'd be nice and water it, but that seemed to have a strangely averse affect, and I'm not sure what happened, but it kind of shriveled up and died. I'm sorry."

Lynette tried and failed to fight a smile, so relieved and dumbfounded that she could barely think straight. "Is that all?" she asked, chuckling.

"Yeah."

"God, you're ridiculous. Come here." She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down and kissing him soundly. "I love you, you know that?"

Tom froze for a moment, slowly standing up straight and giving her a tentative, hopeful look. Lynette smiled shyly; for all the times she'd thought it, she had never said it out loud. Suddenly, it didn't seem so scary anymore. "I love you," she said again.

Tom nodded, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I love you too."


End file.
